


A Chance To Go Down Fighting

by katajainen



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle of Five Armies, Canon-Compliant Battle of Five Armies, Canonical Character Death, Ficlet, Hurt No Comfort, Other, Short One Shot, Wordcount: 100-1.000, times three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 14:09:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5747374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katajainen/pseuds/katajainen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fíli and Kíli follow their uncle and king to the fray, but in the end, the three warriors are quite alone in the sea of the enemy.</p>
<p>A book-canon compliant glimpse of the horror otherwise known as the Battle of Five Armies. Without any pale Orcs, thank you very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Chance To Go Down Fighting

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was born of two things:
> 
> A: I finally got around to watch _The Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies_ and was disgusted by the utter stupidity of the great big Hollywood-style bossfight with Azog and Bolg vs. the Durins. I was pretty much going "Honestly? You've got to be kidding me." the entire time. If Thorin, Fíli and Kíli have to die, at least they deserve to do it in a way that is not completely lame and cliché-ridden.
> 
> B: I lost my camera today out in the snow, with little hope of ever reclaiming it (or the memory card). I'm still quite mad and needed some outlet. So I wrote this. It's short and ugly and brutal, and completely un-beta'd.
> 
> **NOTE:** this ficlet contains a canonical character death x 3 in quite graphic detail. Please read accordingly.

There is madness in Thorin’s eyes as he charges over the remains of the Front Gate. It’s not the gold-madness any more, but the battle-frenzy and revenge-lust are no less terrible. He’s a maelstrom, a whirlwind of steel-clad fury, a snarling blur of sharp edges, trailing blood in its wake.

It’s all Fíli and Kíli can do to keep up with him. They’re watching his back, as always, fighting side by side, as always. They drive a long sharp wedge into the lines of the enemy, but there’s only three of them, and so many Orcs. Soon they are cut off from the rest of the Company.

Fíli loses sight of his uncle for one terrible moment, then hears a voice raised in a defiant cry. But there’s an edge it that makes his heart stutter and fail, and as he spins and sidesteps, the ground blood-slippery under him, he sees Thorin go down, pinned by a barbed spear, hacking furiously at the shaft. Fíli is still not close enough as his uncle is lost to sight in the press of the enemy. The rise and fall of the spear-shafts give desperate speed to Fíli’s sprint.

And then he’s standing over his uncle, over his fallen king, with his brother at his back, and they’re striking back at the foe with everything they’ve got. Fíli hears Thorin’s voice, and while he can’t make out the words over the din, at least his uncle is still drawing breath. Fíli and Kíli are two opposite poles in a circle of protection, holding up a wall of flashing steel between them, and somehow they manage to drive the enemy back, to gain some brief respite. But there’s still only two of them, and so many Orcs.

Turning on an instinct, but still too late, Fíli sees his brother take a mace to the gut, bending double under the force of the blow, sword falling from limp fingers as he grasps at the spikes lodged in his mail, blood welling up between his fingers. And Fíli is hacking down everyone and everything between them, until the second blow lands with a sickening crunch and the side of Kíli’s face caves into a mess of blood and bone and splinter. Fíli hears a horrible keening wail, and his throat aches from the force of it.

He’s standing over his uncle and his brother, one sprawled on top of the other, and for all he knows they’re both dead. And his swords are a flicker of red steel, raining blood and body parts, and his arms are starting to ache, and in his chest there is a void deeper than worlds, but still he’s rooted to the spot, giving no quarter, no opening, for he can hear the rest of the Company, and if he can hold on just a bit longer, there will be help. But he is alone, and there are too many Orcs.

Kíli is not watching his back any more, and Fíli feels his leg give out under him before the pain hits him. The blade has pierced the back of his knee, barely above the edge of his boot, and Fíli spins as he falls onto his good knee, his slashing blades hitting something that screams beautifully. But behind every fallen foe stands another. Even as he fends off one blade, another bites into his side through mail and leather and skin by the sheer brute force behind the thrust. Gasping, tasting blood, Fíli looks up into the snarling face of the Orc captain as it twists the spear, and then he sees only white-hot agony as he slides off the blade, pushed down by an iron-heavy boot at his hip.

He’s on his back, gazing at a sky darkened with darting black leathery wings, coughing, trying to draw breath against the welling, mounting pain in his chest. And over him the dripping blade is lifted for a final thrust. His swords are gone, his hands are empty, and he scrabbles desperately for something, for anything, as his cold fingers close on another hand, on fingertips calloused by bowstring. And so Fíli grasps in brother’s hand as the blade descends and brings him the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> After seeing the movie version, I just had to give Fíli a chance to go down fighting.
> 
> As always, all comments are welcome. Even if you want to give me a good kicking, since after this one I'd totally understand.


End file.
